Children of the Stars
by Secrte
Summary: Year 2431. Planets in the Alpha quadrant are disappearing mysteriously. Spock is summoned aboard the Enterprise as his great memory is likely to hold the key to the mystery.


Valkian lay awake, watching her. Jam Green. Strong nose, heavy mouth and massive jawbones, her face carved in ebony brought to mind a ceremonial Earth-African mask. Same dark beauty, same implacable toughness.

There was a bruise on her chin. This fresh one was a souvenir from last night when, after her eighteenth drink, she had accused the security chief officer of cheating at poker. One insult triggering another, the officers had come to blows. Jam Green was definitely unable to stay out of trouble.

Valkian smiled. He reached for her cheek, hesitated. She was asleep but her hair was not. Valkian was not even certain that the frizzy black strands were actual hair. They flared and crawled around, probing, tasting the intruder's sweat from the moist sheets. They looked more like little snakes. There were bets among the junior officers concerning their actual nature/purpose. He wasn't afraid of them, however. They didn't have teeth, and just a couple of hours ago, they were gently stroking his belly and the inside if his thighs. A far from unpleasant sensation.

He touched one of them. Jam opened her eyes. Glared at him. "Who are you?"

The young man sighed. "You don't remember anything do you?"

She propped herself on one elbow. The sheets revealed firm breasts and hard nipples. Jam's big, stunning black eyes dissected her interlocutor. Valkian was nineteen years old. He had a manly beauty, with a square jaw and horizontal eyebrows. Gills flared on each side of his neck, a feature inherited from distant Benzite ancestors. She frowned. "Ensign Valkian… Gale?"

"At least you remember that..."

Jam scrubbed her eyes. Throbbing pain crushed the top of her skull. Through the fog hanging to her eyelids, she discerned walls of red maleoresin. Pieces of walls, in fact… amid 3D posters of Orson Blunt, the greatest jumpball champion of all times, human, not really her type, but incredibly hot in his skin-tight uniform...

Her gaze landed on the workstation at the rear corner of the vast room. The desk was given over to memory cards, holo-vids, dirty clothes, rotting pieces of pizza and jumpball trophies. A first officer's desk. Worthy of the name.

She repelled the linen and jumped to her feet. From the corner of his eye, Valkian managed to steal images of the body clad in long sharp muscles. No time for that last night, but now, he could really see her. It wasn't true what they said. That she had balls. She was fully female. Beautifully female. She bent over to pick up the glass at her feet. "What happened to us?"

"Romulan ale, I'd say. You insisted the contest should be carried on with, and I quote, _the real deal, not some sweet juice for pussies._ I suppose you'll be glad to know that you won. Again."

Jam sketched a grin. A dimple dug her right cheek. Her eyes twinkled. "Of course, I won." She stretched, walked over to the bathroom. She called out over the noise of the water in the shower. "You better move your ass Ensign, I don't do boyfriends. And make sure you don't forget anything in my quarters. I hate mess."

Jam offered her face to the water. She combed back her long frizzy strands and twisted them into a single braid. She sighed. Junior officers and their moon eyes. She couldn't stand them beyond the first night. She brushed the mobile panel of the shower stall and her agenda showed up, along with endless lists of unread messages. She froze. The captain was waiting for her in her ready room.

Gale was still zipping his pants on when Jam stormed out of the bathroom, blotting herself with a tiny towel. She fell on her hands and knees to retrieve her boots from under the bed. She stood up, set to search the junk pile on her desk. She rummaged for several moments, finally set hands on a black crumpled unitard. "That… bitch... I can hear her already, with her… regulations, and her… rules, and her... and... Bitch _…_ "

Valkian stared. "I don't get it. You obviously can't stand the captain. Why did you agree to become her first officer? I hear the Galadriel was yours to take?"

Jam blinked. "You're still here?" She pointed a finger at him. "Off my sight. Now. And remember. If you feel like repeating anything, I mean, _anything_ that's happened in here… Trust me, you won't be repeating anything, ever again. Do you copy?"

The young man stood up , nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Sorry what did you say, _Ensign_?"

Valkian swallowed hard. "Yes! Sir!"

"Get lost!" Jam watched the boy go through the pneumatic doors and scurry down the corridor. The nerve of the little twat!

She dressed up quickly, pinned her combadge on her chest, went through the doors and joined the main hallway, cream upholstered walls and white luminescent arches. The mixture of ale and lotrans essence she had tried last night was mighty. Her head was numb and her thoughts were colored sheeps jumping about. If only she could go back to bed… She massaged her chin. There must be a bruise somewhere under her fingers. Another one.

She stopped before the turbolift but did not step on the platform. Why should she hurry? She knew exactly what the Captain wanted with her. Jam had rather take the stairs. She went through the security doors, started to descend the steps, one by one. Leisurely. She could not help it. Looking for new ways of pissing her superior officer. Now to say that she actually managed to piss her superior officer would have been a bit preposterous. For the "captain" was unswayable, always true to form, cold and mechanical. The "captain" had the personality of a food replicator.

Correction. Laal Soong _was_ a food replicator.

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The captain's restroom was coated in shades of blue: ash blue walls and deep cyan carpeting adorned with the Federation logo. Blue was of course the favorite color of the previous Captain. A robot did not have a favorite color.

Jam grabbed the back of a chair, turned it around and sat astride to face her superior. Laal Soong, stiff and straight in her overstuffed seat, rested both hands on her desk inlayed with a wide touch-sensitive screen. The light coming from beneath concentrated all shadows in her eyes. "Again, Commander, would you please sit properly?"

Jam exhaled loudly but corrected her position.

"Thank you, Commander. There are a number of issues I wish to discuss with you."

The first officer folded her arms across her chest, ready for yet another session of psycho-crap picked from the _Human's behavior for dumb androids_. "All ears." Her right leg started to move up and down.

"I am aware, Commander, that you are not comfortable with my presence aboard this ship, less again with my position. You aced all your exams as a cadet, you have the best record in the Fleet, and the Captain of the USS Caprica praises for you. One would think that you would be able to shove aside bigotry and personal beliefs in order to perform your duty. And yet, even my positronic brain fails to compute how many complaints I receive and convey about you each day. Ever since I came on board, you have been a reliable source of trouble."

Jam gazed up at the ceiling. It was made of maléopirithium. Her eyes started to follow the complicated grooves of the material. The captain stood up, went around her desk and nodded, furrowing her brow with the slight delay that betrayed her inorganic nature. Jam shook her head. An automaton. Nothing more.

The captain continued in her toneless, impersonal voice. "I understand you are concerned about the safety of the crew. Perhaps you should consider, Commander, that if I were to _blow a fuse_ as you constantly fear... _you_ would be the one to stand between their lives and me. But to do so, you would need to remain alert. I do not believe getting drunk every night or partaking in every fight serves this ambition."

The young woman raised a dark glare at her superior. "Permission to speak freely?"

"You always do, Commander."

Jam stood up. "I think you misunderstand. I, am here, because I need a job. And this is the only thing I know how to do." She pressed her index finger down on the desk. "But you can burn this ship to the ground, the whole crew with it. See if I care. I'm not the one who hired you after your system crashed for no reason. I'm not the one who placed you in a command chair after a year and a half at the Academy. Whatever happens. I wash my hands of it."

Laal slowly shook her head. She brought to mind an animated statue, a golem of duranium and bioplast. "I understand." She said. "Your motives are now quite clear. It is not my place to judge them, but since you know how to do your job, I suggest you start doing it, for this is the last time that I warn you. Whether you like it or not, Captain and First Officer are meant to be a team. If you do not behave, measures will be taken."

Jam stretched her lips. How many times had she heard that?

"Captain!" The voice was coming from the captain's combadge. She brushed it. "Yes, mister kajali."

"An urgent call from Admiral Backhall."

"Pipe it through."

The desk's holoprojector lit up and Admiral Eugene Backhall appeared in the Captain's back. Laal turned around. Backhall rested his elbows on his own desk and laced his fingers before his mouth. His holographic face, steely grey eyes, heavy blue bags and cheeks pockmarked with acne scars, loomed closer. "Soong."

"Admiral."

"We have lost communication with the USS Success."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. And frankly, I'm not sure I want to know. Planet Setlik III just… vanishing… Starbase 96 going silent and now… that. I can't help thinking this is all… related somehow. The Success was not… _is. is_ not… just any ship. It's the second most powerful vessel in the Fleet."

"Were you able to access Memory Alpha?" Laal asked, "Quite possibly, the key to the mystery lies there. The library was attacked for a reason."

"I couldn't agree more. I wish we had an off-line version of it. How did we never think about that? No. It's still locked up. Our best engineers are working day and night to solve the problem, but they seem to have no clue as to what is going on… That's why I… I was wondering. Maybe you could err… help them out? After all, you're a… you're some sort of… computer yourself…"

"I shall do my utmost to assist them in their task, Sir. Did you reach Ambassador cha Sarek yet? His great memory appears to be our only alternative."

Backhall shook his head no. "Unfortunately, Spock cha Sarek now lives deep into Romulan territory. Encrypted messages are systematically destroyed by the government."

"How about sending a clear message? Are not Romulans our allies?"

"I'm afraid, _allies…_ means something… different for Romulans."

"What do you mean?"

Backhall waved off the question. "Nothing. Maybe you're right. I too am starting to think this is the only way… But will you… plug yourself to the extranet? Will you try? I know what I'm asking. If Memory Alpha is sick from a virus…"

"I know. I am willing to take that risk."

Backhall nodded with a faint smile. "I'll keep you apprised. Backhall out."

The captain turned to her first Officer. Jam had lost all color. "Setlik III is… missing? When did that happen?"

Laal cocked her head right. "You see, Commander, what I meant about starting doing your job?"

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Jam dashed to her workstation, swept the junk pile off the touch-screen. She turned on the holoprojector, pressed three synergistic keys. A greenish window sprang up, asked for identification. For a second, she thought she had forgotten her former captain's password, but the Cardassian signs quickly came back to her. She kept her finger hovering above the enter key. That fight. That stupid fight. She fisted. She knew Tezarath. He held grudges. What if he had decided to monitor her communications?

She had to make that call, however. She had to… she… Jam pinched her lips to almost pain, sat in her chair as calmly as she could. She was overreacting. Setlik III was in a remote corner of the quadrant, an ill-known place here all sorts of weird things happened all the time. Starbase 96… A bunch of forgotten drunkards and meth-heads… she knew… Most likely someone had passed out on their control panel. Nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing.

She stared at the holoscreen for a long time, breathing acid. This was silly. Tezarath was not spying on her. He was too lazy even for that. Probably didn't even know how to turn on a computer. She reached out, logged in and initiated the call.

The screen jumped for almost a minute. A minute of sheer panic. Before displaying a young dark-skinned face. "Oh, thank God!" Jam pressed a hand on her mouth.

The boy who would be thirteen in two weeks grinned with all his impeccably white teeth. He bent over his… whatever he called that self-built communication device. "Mom? That's a hell of a surprise!"

Jam coughed to clear up her voice. "What is this language?"

"Oh please! It's you saying that?"

Jam couldn't help a smile. "I thought I'd… drop by to say hi. I won't be long, I have reason to think that my security officer might me monitoring my calls. How's it going? How are _you_ doing? You look like you've lost weight again. You used to have full cheeks."

"I needed to lose that weight, Mom, I looked like a hamster. I train a lot. You think you're good at jumpball? Think again. Next time we play, I'm gonna kick your ass for good."

"Tchaikovski Green!"

"I'm sorry, I…. It's no so often we get to talk. I forgot myself, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Tchai, you have to understand. It's not for me, it's for you. I don't want to see any more negative comment on your file. Look at me, I mean it. Now, training is one thing. What about studying? I hope you listen to your teachers now."

He pouted. "Do I have to? They're not that smart, you know? What grandma taught me when we lived together outshines their bolder theories. They're but… priests... All they talk about is… gods and miracles. They know nothing about how the Universe actually works."

"Don't be so arrogant. The models your grandparents introduced you to are theories as well. There is no such thing in this life as absolute truth."

The boy stretched his thick lips, nodded. There was a shadow on his upper lip now. He was growing so fast. She could remember a time when they would wrap themselves into a blanket and sneak outside to climb a mountain at night. He would cuddle up with her and point at the sky to inquire about the mysteries of the cosmos.

Jam knew that she was supposed to make the call snappy, but she couldn't let go of him yet. "Tell me my little dak, have you thought about what you wanted for your birthday? Wait. Let me guess. The last release of Ferocious Birds! Unless it is a robot-hawk? Wait, before that it was a laser-bow…"

"I want a spacecraft fitted with transwarp drive." The boy answered in a smothered voice.

"O-kay… no problem! Hold on a second, I... need to go and cyber-rob a bank."

"I could come visit you whenever."

Jam sighed. "I'm afraid this is not how life works."

The boy shrugged. "I don't care how life works. If life is broken, all there is to do is fix it. If you can't buy me a ship… I'll build it!"

Jam giggled, love swelled in her chest. "Of course. And may I ask… with what hardware? The ash of the desert?"

"If necessary, yes. But I don't think it will come to that. Marco says there is a black market downtown. Well stocked. And every Sunday, there is a man who works at the drop-off on Selina II. Marco's cousin."

Jam scowled. "You know you don't have a right to leave the Sanctuary, unless you are under the surveillance of your teachers."

The boy nodded somberly, remained quiet for a moment. "Or you could just come over and kiss me for my birthday. That would do too."

Jam blinked, swallowed convulsively. "Tchai, I… I'm so sorry… A situation has…"

"Don't sweat it, I don't know why I even bother anymore, I should be used to this by now…"

"Tchai, my everything, I…"

"I just… I don't understand. Other people take their children on ships like yours. I can behave, I wouldn't be a nuisance. And why won't you tell them about me? Why won't you tell _anyone_ about me? Is there… something… wrong with me? Are you... ashamed of me?"

Jam reached for the hologram. "No, no! How can you say that? How could you even think that? I'm just… I wanna… I want to keep you safe, is all. There is... no such thing as a ship like the Enterprise… Danger is our every day meal. This is no place for a child."

"I'm not a child anymore. And it's not just the ship. You never let me go anywhere. You never invited anyone home when we lived with grandma and grandpa. Why?"

Jam sighed. "You'll understand, some day. I'll explain everything. some day. I promise. For now… You'll just have to trust me. Please? Everything I do, I do for you. Everything. Tell me you know I love you."

The boy stretched his lips, shook his head.

"Who loves you more than Ashkar loves Nijhkar and Sahvkar?"

Tchai shrugged. "I gotta go. No, wait. I mean… _I have_ to go. Is that good standard enough? Goodbye. Mother."

"Tchaikovski, please, I…"

The beloved face vanished.


End file.
